


Water Music

by Heronfem



Series: Grace Notes [3]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Background Geralt/Jaskier/Yennefer, Background Poly, Multi, Muteness, No Dialogue, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:41:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25949758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heronfem/pseuds/Heronfem
Summary: Geralt and Jaskier both need a day in silence, or, a snapshot of a quiet moment in time.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Grace Notes [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1822675
Comments: 18
Kudos: 158





	Water Music

Sometimes Geralt just doesn't want to talk. It's not that he can't, or even that he won't, he just doesn't want to. So, on those days, if he's with Jaskier, he just pulls out a little blue scrap of fabric and ties it to his armor and that's all Jaskier needs to know.

It's taken some time to work out this system, but it works, and when Geralt wakes up on a fine spring day to birds chirping and his tongue heavy in his mouth he just sighs and fishes the scrap out of his bags. Jaskier is still asleep, huddled in his blankets and very faintly snoring, so Geralt gets their breakfast prepared as the sun creeps up over the horizon and carries on up to lighten the sky from the pre dawn indigo to the feather soft blue of the true day. 

Jaskier finally wakes up, snorting a little as he does, and Geralt watches him stretch like some sort of ungainly puppy before he sits up. He doesn't say anything, and his mouth is just a little turned down. 

Geralt watches, nudging the bowl of honeyed porridge to him, and Jaskier gives him a little smile as he takes it. There's still no words from him. Geralt studies him as they eat, and thinks that, maybe, today is one of those rare days when a fit of sadness has overtaken Jaskier. They're rare, thankfully. Most of the time Jaskier is happy, or at least at a pleasant neutral, but once in a great rare while the sadness comes upon him and grips him with tight talons and refuses to let go. 

Jaskier finishes his food, looking rumpled and tired, and Geralt carefully cleans and puts their things away as he slowly gets up to go to their packs. 

When Geralt turns back, he finds Jaskier in a lovely dark green outfit, and toying with a blue ribbon from his pack. Geralt pauses, curious, and Jaskier looks up to meet his face. He seems nervous, but Geralt gets it. 

He takes the ribbon from unresisting fingers and threads it through the pinked edges on Jaskier's doublet for the day, tying the ribbon so it will float on his arm and stay out of the way. The blue is almost the exact same shade as Geralt's scrap, and the look of blatant relief on Jaskier's face makes his heart hurt a little. Geralt tugs him in against his chest, wrapping him up in a hug, and presses a gentle kiss to the side of his head as Jaskier's arms tentatively come up to hold onto him. 

This is new. Not a bad new, but new all the same, and Geralt knows Jaskier must be feeling especially fragile. If nothing else, the way Jaskier seems to be trying to make himself small against him would make that clear. Jaskier's many things, but small isn't one of them. He's tall and pleasantly broad, sturdy from years of travel together, and his personality is anything but small. 

However…

Geralt pulls back enough to kiss his forehead, gentle, and Jaskier gives him a little smile. 

Definitely a bad day, then. 

They decide without words against breaking camp. The wood they're in is both safe and comfortable, and the quiet green of spring is soothing. Geralt leads them through the woods, and they make their way to a small lake, teeming with fish and mostly clear, some reeds and cattails swaying in the breeze of a clear morning. Jaskier has his fishing pole, a cleverly mad thing that can be collapsed and then restrung, and Geralt watches him put it together before deciding he's had quite enough of being dry and starts to strip down for a swim, pausing to pull the blue scrap off and tie it around his wrist.

The water is cool, but not cold. Geralt grew up learning to swim in frigid mountain lakes, and a Temerian lowland pond is nothing in comparison. He dunks himself under and goes deeper, pleased to find it free of drowners, and when he resurfaces he finds Jaskier watching him from the shore with a bit of a smile. 

Irrationally he suddenly misses Yennefer with a burning, aching wrench in his guts. He misses her plenty when they're traveling, but right now it's somehow worse, with Jaskier sad and silenced and nothing to fill the air but the lapping of water and birdsong. He swims back to the shallows and turns his best pleading face onto Jaskier, who makes a face at him for about two seconds before caving. Geralt smiles, settling in as Jaskier tugs his line back in and strips down. He pulls the ribbon from his doublet and ties it on, a mirror of Geralt's own blue.

The water seems to ease something in him, and as they swim out to the deeper part of the lake where their feet only just touch the bottom, Geralt feels his longing ease. Jaskier seems to catch his mood and comes to him, leaning in to gently nose at the side of his face and find his hand to hold in the water. The tails of the ribbon float behind each wave of his arm as they tread water. 

It'll be alright. Geralt nuzzles him back, breathing easier. Their third may not be here, but they're together. When he has words again, maybe they'll make their way towards Yennefer's house, and maybe rest there a time, and maybe-

Too many maybes. 

He's here, and now, and Jaskier with him. 

Jaskier meets his eyes, smiling a little. It's not forced, not pained. Just understanding. His hand comes up to rest two fingers lightly on Geralt's chest. 

Space for two. 

Geralt pulls him into a kiss, and feels his heart ease. Jaskier smiles at him when they part, and that is enough. 

Tomorrow will carry its own challenges and struggles, but for now Geralt is free to shout love without words, in birdsong and water music.

**Author's Note:**

> Mom said it's my turn with the self projection!
> 
> Anyway this was a writing practice focused on three things- no dialogue, no italics, and exactly 1k long. I'm pretty pleased with it. 
> 
> \---  
> Comments bring me great and abiding joy! Life is stressful, comments are free! Please feed your local starving author, they're doing their best. You can find me as Heronfem or kaer-cuan on tumblr, HeronVinn on twitter. Art and podfics welcome!


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